


not the ghost

by wizardcleric



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, I just miss Molly and Lucien makes me sad, Lucien may be a bit OOC because we have no idea what his deal is atm, Major Spoilers for c2ep111 and onwards!!!, Mostly bitter and slightly sweet if you're willing to reach, Other, Reader was Molly's s/o, Reader-Insert, There is sadness and anger and love just in between, There's a teensy weensy bit of a death threat in there because reader is angery, nothing graphic though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:14:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28158132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wizardcleric/pseuds/wizardcleric
Summary: You meet a lover long gone in a cavern of ice and it doesn't go too well for either of you.
Relationships: Lucien (Critical Role)/Reader, Mollymauk Tealeaf/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 67





	not the ghost

**Author's Note:**

> I threw this together in 2 hours max and it is... something. I wanted to share this with you nontheless, though! Because I had thoughts and feelings and this is an outlet. So enjoy :D
> 
> The title is also the title of the song Not the Ghost by The Crane Wives!

When you closed your eyes, you could see artwork and scars stretching across lavender skin and sanguine eyes that twinkled with mirth and something darker lurking beneath. You could see baubles and trinkets and a coat embroidered and patterned, you could see a tail swishing playfully and an arrogant smirk riddled with hidden kindness. You could hear laugh bubbling from the back of his throat and that light accent as he spoke. You could almost feel his touch, playful but loving.

He haunted you. Your lover was alive, but he haunted you all the same.

The emptiness of his grave haunted you, most of all.

You couldn’t forget the love that was Mollymauk Tealeaf, the love you held for him. He was joy incarnate, always found his way with a spring in his step and a curiosity that was infectious.

The wonder, the charisma, the kindness he hid behind flaunts of his grandeur and big personality.

He had always told you that he intended to leave every town he visited better than he had found it. Mollymauk had. And he just so happened to have left you and the Nein better than before as well.

He was a whirlwind of passion, a person larger than life.

It hurt to see him killed, it hurt all the more to find his grave emptied, and though hope returned when Jester’s scry had located him, alive and well, that fleeting sense of hope was long lost the moment the man you once loved stood before you in icy caverns.

You had always had an inkling that your Molly was gone for good. Yet hope seemed too sweet, too enticing the thought of holding your lover once more. It all melted away when you found Vess murdered.

It left your heart cold when you confronted him in the cavern.

You felt icy, as the walls around you were, too. The cold nipped at your cheeks, left them slightly flushed. Puffs of your breath were visible as you faced off with the man you all had adored. His lithe frame was buried underneath layer upon layer, the piercings of his horns were gone, he seemed duller, more serious, like the dark he had been suppressing, that had been lurking, had taken hold at last.

Well, based off the body you had been carrying around, you supposed that wasn’t too far from the truth.

His eyes, those eyes that had the same color as the blood he shed for his magic, were changed too.

The man you loved was long gone.

You kept in the background as the others conversed with him. Memory after memory came flooding in as the purple Tiefling spoke in an accent way too thick and in clothes way too plain and with eyes that were disinterested in all of you.

His words were attempting to be consoling, he didn’t necessarily mean you harm. He was doing his thing but the presence of the body you once held close with a mind you didn’t love was too much for you to handle.

It was hard to keep your composure when Yasha took your hand.

You hoped Lucien’s eyes wouldn’t find yours.

But they did.

And something in them stirred. Maybe it was an ounce of recognition, maybe it was just your cowering form that told him you were closet to the interloper to his mind that was Mollymauk.

He approached. Yasha moved in between you two. You straightened your back.

You had to be strong now.

Yasha talked to him. She gave him the four-leaf clover Mollymauk had given her all those years ago. Her caring eyes turned towards you, to make sure you were okay.

You weren’t. But you would manage.

So, you gave her a nod. Yasha backed off, melding into your peripheral vision when you focused on the purple tiefling in front of you.

“Hey there.” He eyed you with an intent you couldn’t quite place. “You’ve been mighty quiet there, doll.”

“There is not much for me to say, Lucien.” You retorted; your head held high as a mask of indifference took over.

“I don’t think that’s quite the case. I’m sure you want to say many things to… er.” He snapped his fingers once or twice. “That Mollymauk-character. I take it you two were close, no?”

“Now, now, Lucien, Molly always insisted that he did not care about who he was before he died for the first time. You were entirely inconsequential to him, so I thought you were much the same.” You kept your voice steady as you recalled his insistence on being his own person.

“He is. I do not care but you must forgive my, ah, curiosity. Seems that person I was held someone _very_ dear. I would hate to ignore them.” He put his right hand on his hip, and you eyed the eyes tattooed onto it with disdain.

“Well, then consider yourself unlucky. I don’t feel like talking about it to someone I don’t know.”

“That is funny, because I feel like I know you mighty well, dearest.” His other hand reached out for you and you felt Yasha’s comforting presence behind you.

Your friends had tried to joke that you should kiss him if he didn’t remember.

But this wasn’t a romance book.

It used to feel like it when Molly was there, but ever since then, the world lacked lavender.

And this shade didn’t fill the void.

“Oh, joy.” You deadpanned, pushing down your thoughts.

“How ‘bout you join me, doll? It’ll be just like old times, whatever those were.” He smirked and leaned forward, trying to get you to flinch and shy away, most likely.

It made your blood boil.

How _dare_ he.

“I have loyalty to my friends, Lucien, unlike you.” You couldn’t help but spit out.

“Why would you think that I don’t have loyalties to others?” He looked hurt, but you were unsure if it was genuine.

“If there is one thing I have learned from this conversation, it’s that you are so very unlike Molly in the most crucial ways.” You didn’t back down. You couldn’t.

“Care to enlighten me?” He challenged with a quirk of his brow.

And so, you did.

“Molly used to walk as if he was weightless. Molly was the center of attention, he stood out with his ostentatious looks, but acted for the benefit of those around more often than not.” You locked eyes with Lucien. “He had this twinkle in his eye, mischievous and confident, adoring every moment he spent awake.”

Lucien looked thoroughly amused. So, you grabbed his cold hand to shut him up before he could even utter so much as a word.

“Molly’s hands were always warm, no matter the climate. He carried that warmth inside and out, passing it on to those that needed it. He smiled so genuinely and unapologetically, never without arrogance, though the warmth was always there.” Lucien eyed you, anticipating what you would do next.

“You, Lucien, walk with purpose, breathe with purpose, smile with purpose. I bet you live with purpose too.” You leaned in ever so slightly and he did the same. "You don't live just for the sake of it. Or enjoy it as it is."

You barely registered the Nein and the Tombtakers watching intently, ready to intervene.

“Well, someone has been watching me with a keen eye.” Lucien said with the beginnings of that smirk.

“You stole the face of my dead lover.” You had a fire in your eyes.

“Oh, darling.” He said with a sliver of pity lining his tone. “I merely took back what once was mine. I’m sure you understand.”

“Of course I do.” A smile graced your lips. “When I eventually do so too, don’t be too surprised, okay?”

You leaned in close, too close for comfort, Lucien registers.

Softer than the petals of a flower, you cupped his cheeks and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Let this be a warning, Lucien.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos to you for sitting through that! Thank you :)  
> Now I lie in wait for Essek to finally appear again.


End file.
